


my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

by spencers-renaissance (tomlinsoul)



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heartbreak, Mutual Pining, No Henry, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sort of Set Around S7, The Lesbian Experience, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29405181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlinsoul/pseuds/spencers-renaissance
Summary: "The worst part is that she loves her with all the tiny shattered pieces of her bleeding heart, and the longer it goes on, the more convinced she is that she will only continue to wade deeper into the weighty ocean of heartache she’s already close to drowning under."or; Emily leaves. JJ follows.
Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 7
Kudos: 41





	my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the countless jemily edits I cry over on tumblr in the middle of the night. And also, Ivy by Taylor Swift.

Emily’s heart hurts. 

She’d made the decision a little over a week ago and given her notice to Hotch before she could rethink it. This is the right thing to do, as painful as it is. Poison ivy has been wrapping itself around her heart for the last six years, slowly constricting as it squeezes all the life out of her, her old self bleeding out as she falls deeper and deeper in love with Jennifer Jareau. 

JJ is happy; Emily is not. It’s as simple as knowing that she can’t turn up at work every day and feel herself break a little more. The worst part is that she loves her with all the tiny shattered pieces of her bleeding heart, and the longer it goes on, the more convinced she is that she will only continue to wade deeper into the weighty ocean of heartache she’s already close to drowning under. 

She’d asked Hotch to keep it quiet: she has no intention of telling a soul. She doesn’t know how to. How do you leave the only family you’ve ever known without losing the last few shreds of happiness, of sanity you have left? Emily has no idea, but she knows that a long, drawn out, teary goodbye is not the answer. 

So. She works her last case. She leaves. She flies to London, then to Manchester. She doesn’t intend on ever coming back. 

★

JJ is furious. The kind of wet, blazing anger that sears your lungs when it’s fuelled by hot, grief-filled misery. How dare Emily leave her like that?

She can’t stop crying: she tears up on the jet when she sits across from Emily’s usual seat, she cries in the toilets when anyone mentions her name, she sobs in bed at night, thinking of their drunken sleepovers and the feeling of Emily’s hand in hers. A curious thought forms at the back of her mind only days after the news of her loss breaks, and the more she entertains it, the more its truth starts to take her breath away, crushing her windpipe and snatching the air from her lungs.

She has never been happier than she has in times spent with Emily Prentiss. 

Taking stock of her life, considering all the things she dreams of, thinking about every time she’s cried over the past few weeks, she breaks up with Will. It’s the most painful thing she’s ever done, but she can only feel relief when she cries into Penelope’s shoulder as Spencer pours them all generous glasses of white wine. She got out before they got really serious, before kids or marriage could complicate matters even further, and if that’s the only thing she has to be thankful for tonight, then she’ll take it. 

“You have to go to London,” Spencer says quietly later that evening, when they’re all lying next to one another on Penelope’s carpet. They have bellies full of wine and friendship, but she doesn’t like the way it mixes with the heartache that’s made its home in hers. 

“I know,” she whispers, reaching for his hand and squeezing it tightly, before doing the same with Penelope’s. “I love you.” She wishes she was saying it to someone else. 

★

She waits for Emily on a bench opposite the interpol office. It’s cold in England, so she’s wrapped up in a thick, knitted scarf with a blue bobble hat obscuring half her face. Emily spots her immediately. She does a double take, stares as though convinced her eyes are deceiving her, raises her hand to her mouth and squeezes her eyes shut before running across the road, straight into JJ’s open arms. 

“Please tell me you’re here for the reason I think you are,” Emily begs as she pulls back from their tight embrace. Her eyes are so deep, so sad, and JJ’s heart breaks a few million times. 

“I’m here… because it took you leaving to show me that Will is not my soulmate,” she says, both her voice and eyes wet as she laughs — half happily, half nervously, “you are, Emily.” 

Her face crumples at those words and she sits on the bench, leaning forward and placing her elbows on her knees before burrowing her face in her hands. Her shoulders shake in minute sobs as emotion consumes her entire being for a moment. 

JJ is at a loss, but she doesn’t realise that Emily’s been in love for six years, and that sort of emotion takes a toll on a person. So she sits down next to her on the bench, and reaches her freezing hand for one of Emily’s, coaxing her face away from its protective cocoon. 

“Em,” she whispers, everything she’s asking in one syllable immediately clear to the other woman sitting on this cold metal bench, coated in chipping blue paint, in the middle of Autumnal Manchester. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, meeting JJ’s wide eyes with her own. “I just—”

Watching her struggle for the right words, seeing the warring emotions in her sweet, soulful eyes, JJ cuts her off. “Emily,” she says firmly, holding her hand even tighter, “I’m in love with you.”

She half-expects to set her crying again, but Emily’s face softens and relaxes, gentle sensitivity replacing the anxious restlessness written into every movement in the muscles of her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth. She has a sudden urge to touch the storybook in front of her, so she does. A shaking, wind-frozen palm rests against Emily’s wet cheek, and she leans in, pressing her lips to the ones she’s dreamed of for the last few weeks. 

Emily wastes no time kissing back, reaching a hand to the back of JJ’s neck, tangling her fingers in her hair. Her other hand roams from her neck, to her shoulder, her arm, before coming to grip the fabric of JJ’s coat as if to pull her even closer, all the complex emotions of falling in love pouring themselves out as they kiss one another with the gentle ferocity of reunited soulmates. Which, JJ supposes, they are. 

When they eventually pull apart, Emily rests her forehead against JJ’s. “I’m in love with you, too,” she whispers, her words almost stolen by the cold wind, shaking the dying leaves from the trees surrounding them. “Dinner?”

JJ laughs happily, standing up from the bench as she reaches a hand out. Emily takes it, and their cold fingers intertwine as they walk down the street towards an Italian restaurant she promises is the best in town. 

★

Emily’s heart is bursting. 

JJ’s still sleeping as she bustles around her kitchen, putting the coffee machine on as she preps some croissant dough and turns the oven on, so she can put them in as soon as her girlfriend wakes up. They’d spent the last month in Manchester together, taking evening walks and spending their weekends in bed, wrapped up in clean white sheets as their favourite TV shows played out across the room. 

She’d sworn on her flight to London that she would never return to Virginia. Sure, she might come home to the US at some point — after all, a VISA only lasts so long — but Virginia is everything JJ is: sweet, warm, and so, so off-limits. She knew if she ever stepped foot in that state again, she’d crawl home to the only person her heart has ever cried for, and she couldn’t do that to herself.

Now, though, their suitcases are half-packed in the bedroom, almost ready for their flight home to Quantico. 

JJ’s hair isn’t brushed when she pads into the kitchen half an hour after Emily wakes up. She has morning breath and a zit is forming on her chin, but Emily’s lips split into a grin as soon as she lays eyes on her. Opening her arms, JJ steps into them, and their bodies press against one another, so warm, so soft. 

This, Emily thinks, is all she wants for the rest of her days. For as long as JJ will have her. 

The soft look in JJ’s eyes as they pull away, the soft, warm palm against her hip, tells her that she won’t be going anywhere any time soon.

**Author's Note:**

> It always bothered me that Emily supposedly left to head Interpol in London when the UK branch of Interpol is based in Manchester. But anyway... I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated and make me very happy, but honestly just so glad you're here!
> 
> Here is the [rebloggable post](https://spencers-renaissance.tumblr.com/post/644479256947245056/my-pain-fits-in-the-palm-of-your-freezing-hand). Anybody can request fics on my tumblr, [@spencers-renaissance](https://spencers-renaissance.tumblr.com), or in the comments! Come say hi :)


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